CHAPTER IX

THE EMERGENCE OF MR. GANDHI

Before this great statute could be brought into operation, and even

whilst Parliament was still laboriously evolving it, a strange and

incalculable figure was coming to the forefront in India, who, favoured

by an extraordinary combination of untoward circumstances, was to rally

round him some of the most and many of the least reputable forces which,

sometimes under new disguises, the old and passive civilisation of India

is instinctively driven to oppose to the disintegrating impact upon it

of the active and disturbing energies of Western civilisation. Saint and

prophet in the eyes of the multitude of his followers--saint in the eyes

even of many who have not accepted him as a prophet--Mr. Gandhi preaches

to-day under the uninspiring name of "Non-co-operation," a gospel of

revolt none the less formidable because it is so far mainly a gospel of

negation and retrogression, of destruction not construction. Mr. Gandhi

challenges not only the material but the moral foundations of British

rule. He has passed judgment upon both British rule and Western

civilisation, and, condemning both as "Satanic," his cry is away with

the one and with the other, and "back to the Vedas," the fountain source

of ancient Hinduism. That he is a power in the land none can deny, least

of all since the new Viceroy, Lord Reading, almost immediately on his

arrival in India, spent long hours in close conference with him at

Simla. What manner of man is Mr. Gandhi, whom Indians revere as a

Mahatma, _i.e._ an inspired sage upon whom the wisdom of the ancient

Rishis has descended? What is the secret of his power?

Born in 1869 in a Gujarat district in the north of the Bombay

Presidency, Mohandas Karamchamd Gandhi comes of very respectable Hindu

parentage, but does not belong to one of the higher castes. His father,

like others of his forebears, was Dewan, or chief administrator, of one

of the small native States of Kathiawar. He himself was brought up for

the Bar and, after receiving the usual English education in India,

completed his studies in England, first as an undergraduate of the

London University and then at the Inner Temple. His friend and

biographer, Mr. H.S.L. Polak, tells us that his mother, whose religious

example and influence made a lasting impression upon his character, held

the most orthodox Hindu views, and only agreed to his crossing "the

Black Water" to England after exacting from him a three-fold vow, which

he faithfully kept, of abstinence from flesh, alcohol, and women. He

returned to India as soon as he had been called to the Bar and began to

practise as an advocate before the Bombay High Court, but in 1893, as

fate would have it, he was to be called to South Africa in connection

with an Indian legal case in Natal. In South Africa he was brought at

once into contact with a bitter conflict of rights between the European

population and the Indian settlers who had originally been induced to go

out and work there at the instance of the white communities who were in

need of cheap labour for the development of the country. The Europeans,

professing to fear the effects of a large admixture of Asiatic elements,

had begun not only to restrict further Indian immigration, but to place

the Indians already in South Africa under many disabilities all the more

oppressive because imposed on racial grounds. Natal treated them

harshly, but scarcely as harshly as the Transvaal, then still under Boer

government. In the Transvaal the Imperial Government took up the cudgels

for them, and the treatment of the Indian settlers there was one of the

grievances pressed by Lord Milner during the negotiations which preceded

the final rupture with the Boer Republics. When the South African war

broke out Mr. Gandhi believed that it would lead to a generous

recognition of the rights of Indians if they at once identified their

cause with that of the British, and he induced Government to accept his

offer of an Indian Ambulance Corps which did excellent service in the

field. Mr. Gandhi himself served with it, was mentioned in despatches,

and received the war medal. His health gave way, and he returned to

India in 1901 where he resumed practice in Bombay with no intention of

returning to South Africa, as he felt confident that when the war was

over the Imperial Government would see to it that the Indians should

have the benefit of the principles which it had itself proclaimed before

going into the war. He was, however, induced to return in 1903 to help

in preparing the Indian memorials to be laid before Mr. Chamberlain

whose visit was imminent in connection with the work of reconstruction.

On his arrival he found that conditions and European opinion were

becoming more instead of less unfavourable for Indians, and though in

1906, when the native rebellion broke out in Natal, he again offered and

secured the acceptance of an Indian Stretcher-Bearer Corps with which he

again served and received the thanks of the Governor, he gradually found

himself driven into an attitude of more and more open opposition and

even conflict with Government by a series of measures imposing more and

more intolerable restraints upon his countrymen. It was in 1906 that he

first took a vow of passive resistance to a law which he regarded as a

deliberate attack upon their religion, their national honour, and their

racial self-respect. In the following year he was consigned, not for the

first time, to jail in Pretoria, but his indomitable attitude helped to

bring about a compromise. It was, however, short-lived, as

misunderstandings occurred as to its interpretation. The struggle broke

out afresh until another provisional settlement promised to lead to a

permanent solution, when Mr. Gokhale, after consultation with the India

Office during a visit to England, was induced in 1912 to proceed to

South Africa and use his good offices in a cause which he had long had

at heart. Whether, as Mr. Gokhale himself always contended, as a

deliberate breach of the promise made to him by the principal Union

Ministers, or as the result of a lamentable misunderstanding, measures

were again taken in 1913 which led Mr. Gandhi to renew the struggle, and

it assumed at once a far more serious character than ever before. It was

then that Mr. Gandhi organised his big strikes of Indian labour and

headed the great strikers' march of protest into the Transvaal which led

to the arrest and imprisonment of the principal leaders and of hundreds

of the rank and file. The furious indignation aroused in India, the

public meetings held in all the large centres, and the protest entered

by the Viceroy himself, Lord Hardinge, in his speech at Madras, combined

with earnest representations from Whitehall, compelled General Smuts to

enter once more the path of conciliation and compromise. As the result

of a Commission of Inquiry the Indians' Relief Act was passed, and in

the correspondence between Mr. Gandhi and General Smuts the latter

undertook on behalf of the South African Government to carry through

other administrative reforms not actually specified in the new Act. Mr.

Gandhi returned to India just after the outbreak of the Great War, and

the Government of India marked its appreciation of the great services

which he had rendered to his countrymen in South Africa by recommending

him for the Kaisar-i-Hind gold medal, which was conferred upon him

amongst the New Year honours of 1915.

The South African stage of Mr. Gandhi's career is of great importance,

as it goes far to explain both the views and the methods which he

afterwards applied in India. He brought back with him from South Africa

a profound distrust of Western civilisation, of which he had

unquestionably witnessed there some of the worst aspects, and also a

strong belief in the efficacy of passive resistance as the most peaceful

means of securing the redress of all Indian grievances in India as well

as in South Africa should they ever become in his opinion unendurable.

Mr. Gokhale, before he died, obtained a promise from him that for at

least a year he would not attempt to give practical expression to the

extreme views which he had already set forth in the proscribed pamphlet

_Hind Swaraj_. At an early age Mr. Gandhi had fallen under the spell of

Tolstoian philosophy, and he has admitted only quite recently that for a

time he was so much impressed with the doctrines of Christ that he was

inclined to adopt Christianity; but the further study of the spiritual

side of Hinduism convinced him that in it alone the key of salvation

could be found, and all his teachings since then have been based on his

faith in the superiority of the Indian civilisation rooted in Hinduism

to Western civilisation, which for him in fact represents in its present

stage only a triumph of gross materialism and brute force. Nevertheless,

when the Great War broke out, he was prepared to believe that the ordeal

of war in the cause of freedom for which Britain had taken up arms might

lead to the redemption of Western civilisation from its worst evils, and

whilst in London on his way to South Africa he had already offered to

form, and to enrol himself and his wife in, an Indian Volunteer

Ambulance Corps. Yet he was not blind to the flaws of the civilisation

for which he stood. He conducted a temperance campaign amongst his

countrymen in South Africa, and, brought there into close contact with

many Indians of the "untouchable" castes, he revolted against a system

which tried to erect such insurmountable barriers between man and man.

Perhaps the best clue to the many contradictions in which his activities

have continually seemed to involve him was furnished by himself when he

said, "Most religious men I have met are politicians in disguise; I,

however, who wear the guise of a politician am at heart a religious

man," and the doctrine which he holds of all others to be the

corner-stone of his religion is that of _Ahimsa_, which, as he has

described it, "requires deliberate self-suffering, not the deliberate

injuring of the wrongdoer," in the resistance of evil.

Throughout the war Mr. Gandhi devoted his ceaseless energies chiefly to

preaching social reforms and the moral regeneration of his countrymen.

He was then an honoured guest at European gatherings, as for instance at

the Madras Law dinner in 1915, at various conferences on education, at

the Bombay Provincial Co-operative Conference in 1917 when in connection

with the admirable Co-operative Credit movement in India he lectured on

the moral basis of co-operation, at missionary meetings in which he

showed his intimate familiarity with the gospels by reverently quoting

Christ's words in support of his own plea for mutual forbearance and

tolerance. As late as July 1918 he defined _Swaraj_ as partnership in

the Empire, and war service as the easiest and straightest way to win

_Swaraj_, inviting the people of his own Gujarat country whom he was

addressing to wipe it free of the reproach of effeminacy by contributing

thousands of Sepoys in response to the Viceroy's recent appeal for fresh

recruits for the Indian army at one of the most critical moments during

the war. His comments about the same time on the Montagu-Chelmsford

scheme were by no means unfavourable, and he specifically joined in the

tribute of praise bestowed upon the Indian Civil Service for their

steadfast devotion to duty and great organising ability. Government

itself resorted to his services as the member of a Commission appointed

to inquire into agrarian troubles at Camparan, and his collaboration was

warmly welcomed by his European colleagues. Nor were there any signs of

implacable hostility to British rule in his vigorous protests in the

following year against the anti-Asiatic legislation of the South

African Union which was again stirring up bad feeling in India.

The circumstances which drove him to declare war against British rule

and Western civilisation arose out of the action taken by Government on

the report of the "Sedition Committee," which, under the presidency of

Mr. Justice Rowlatt, a judge of the High Court of King's Bench, sent out

especially to preside over it, had not only carefully explored the

origins and growth of political crime during the great wave of unrest

after the Partition of Bengal, but recommended that in some directions

the hands of the executive and judicial authorities should be

strengthened to cope with any fresh outbreaks of a similar character.

The Committee pointed out that in spite of the preventive legislation of

1911 it had become apparent before the war broke out that the forces of

law and order were still inadequately equipped to cope with the

situation in Bengal. For the duration of the war the Defence of India

Act had conferred upon Government emergency powers which had enabled the

authorities summarily to intern a large number of those who were known

to be closely connected with the criminal propaganda, but almost as soon

as the war was over their release would follow automatically upon the

expiry of the Defence Act, and a dangerous situation would arise again

if Government had nothing but the old methods of procedure to fall back

upon.

In January 1919 the Government of India announced that legislation in

conformity with the recommendations of the Sedition Committee would be

required from the Imperial Legislative Council, and two draft bills were

published, one of them embodying permanent alterations in the law and

the other arming the Executive with emergency powers. The publication of

these bills threw the country into a fresh ferment of agitation, and

even an Indian judge of undeniably moderate views, Sir Narain

Chandavarkar, declared that such measures were no longer required, as

with the advent of constitutional reforms revolutionary agitation

would, he believed, cease, and, as a warm supporter of the

Montagu-Chelmsford Report, he felt bound to protest against legislation

so entirely at variance with the spirit in which the Report had been

conceived and with the expectations which it had aroused. The Extremists

read into the bills another proof of the organised hypocrisy

characteristic of British rule in general and of the Report in

particular, and denounced them as a monstrous engine of tyranny and

oppression, against which no Indian would be safe. Government, however,

was not to be moved from its determination, and in explaining the

necessity for proceeding with the bills the Viceroy pointed out in his

opening speech that "the reaction against all authority that had

manifested itself in many parts of the civilised world was unlikely to

leave India entirely untouched and the powers of evil were still

abroad." The Indian non-official members, on the other hand, were solid

in opposition, and even those who did not challenge the report of the

Sedition Committee intimated that now the war was over they could not

acquiesce in such measures until the reforms had come into operation,

and unless it was then found that revolutionary forces were still at

work and constituted a real public danger. The two amendments, supported

by all the Indian non-official members, were voted down by the official

_bloc_. Government did something to allay opposition by agreeing that

the Act which was to have been permanent should operate for three years

only, and the title of the bill was amended to show clearly that its

application would be confined to clearly anarchical and revolutionary

crimes. It was further modified in form in the committee stage, but the

opposition within the Council remained unmoved, and outside the Council

grew more and more fierce. The Extremists who had shrunk from no efforts

to misrepresent the purpose of the bills received a great accession of

strength when Mr. Gandhi instituted the vow of _Satyagraha_, or passive

resistance, under which, if the bills became law, he and his followers

would "severally refuse to obey these laws and such other laws as a

committee to be thereafter appointed might see fit," whilst they would

"faithfully follow the truth and refrain from violence to life, person,

or property." The Moderate leaders at Delhi at once issued a manifesto

condemning _Satyagraha_, but Government stuck to its guns, the bills

being finally passed on March 18, after very hot discussion. Mr. Gandhi,

having formed his committee, proclaimed a _Hartal_, _i.e._ a

demonstrative closing of shops and suspension of business for March 30.

This _Hartal_ at Delhi started a terrible outbreak which spread with

unexpected violence over parts of the Bombay Presidency and the greater

part of the Punjab, with sporadic disturbances in the North-West

Frontier Province, and even in Calcutta.

The Delhi _Hartal_ brought for the first time into full relief the close

alliance into which the Mahomedan Extremists had been brought with the

Hindu Extremists, as well as the influence which both had acquired over

a considerable section of the lower classes in the two communities. The

political leaders had fallen into line in the Indian National Congress

and the All-India Moslem League during the 1916 and 1917 sessions, when

they united in demanding Home Rule for India, and they had united since

then in rejecting as totally inadequate the scheme of reforms

foreshadowed in the Montagu-Chelmsford Report. But not till towards the

conclusion of the war did the Mahomedan Extremists discover a special

grievance for their own community in the peace terms likely to be

imposed upon a beaten Turkey. That was a grievance far more likely to

appeal to their co-religionists than the political grievances which had

formed the stock-in-trade of Hindu Extremism, if they could be worked

upon to believe that Great Britain and her allies were plotting not

merely against the temporal power of the Ottoman Empire, but against the

Mahomedan religion all over the world by depriving the Sultan of Turkey

of the authority essential to the discharge of his office as Khalif or

spiritual head of Islam.

The agitation was at first very artificial, for the bulk of Indian

Mahomedans had until recent years known very little about and taken

still less interest in Turkey, and their loyalty had never wavered

during the war. Some of the leading Indian Mahomedans had indeed openly

disputed Sultan Abdul Hamid's claim to the Khalifate of Islam when he

first tried at the end of the last century to import his Pan-Islamic

propaganda into India. But the long delay on the part of the Allies in

formulating their Turkish peace terms allowed time for the movement to

grow and to carry with it the more fanatical element amongst Indian

Mahomedans. The Government of India tried in vain to allay Mahomedan

feeling by receiving deputations from the _Khilafat_ Association founded

to prosecute an intensified campaign in favour of Turkey, and professing

its own deep anxiety to procure what it called "a just peace with

Turkey," for which the Indian delegates to the War and to the Peace

Conferences in Europe had been constantly instructed to plead. The

greatest success which the _Khilafat_ agitators achieved was when Mr.

Gandhi allowed himself to be persuaded by them that the movement was a

splendid manifestation of religious faith, as he himself described it to

me. For, once satisfied that the cause which they had taken up was a

religious cause, he was prepared to make it his own without inquiring

too closely into its historical or political justification. For him it

became a revolt of the Mahomedan religious conscience against the

tyranny of the West just as legitimate as the revolt of the Hindu

conscience against the same tyranny embodied in the Rowlatt Acts. Whilst

Mahomedans proved their emancipation from narrow sectarianism by joining

in the _Satyagraha_ movement of passive resistance in spite of the Hindu

character impressed upon it by its Sanscrit name, it was, he declared,

for Hindus to show that they, too, could rise above ancient prejudice

and resentment by throwing themselves heart and soul into the _Khilafat_

movement. Both movements were to be demonstrations of the "soul-force"

of India, to be put forth in passive resistance according to his

favourite doctrine of _Ahimsa_, the endurance and not the infliction of

suffering.

But Mr. Gandhi, with all his visionary idealism, was letting loose

dangerous forces which recked naught of _Ahimsa_. Hindus and Mahomedans

"fraternised" at the Delhi _Hartal_ in attempts to compel its observance

by violence which obliged the authorities to use forcible methods of

repression, and of the five rioters who were killed two were Mahomedans.

These deaths were skilfully exploited by the Extremists of both

denominations, and a day of general mourning for the Delhi "martyrs" was

appointed. The spark had been laid to the train, and Hindus and

Mahomedans continued to "fraternise" in lawlessness, arson, and murder

wherever the mob ran riot. Systematic attempts to destroy railways and

telegraphs at the same moment in widely separated areas pointed to the

existence of a carefully elaborated organisation. Public buildings as

well as European houses were burnt down in half a dozen places, and

Europeans were often savagely attacked and done to death, nowhere more

savagely than at Amritsar, where five Europeans, two of them Bank

managers, were killed with the most fiendish brutality, and a missionary

lady, known for her good works, barely escaped with her life. The

authorities were not slow to take stern measures. Troops were rapidly

moved to the centres of disturbance, flying columns were sent through

the country, and armoured cars and trains and aeroplanes were used to

disperse the rioters. A Resolution issued by the Government of India on

April 14 asserted its determination to use all the powers vested in it

to put down "open rebellion" even by the most drastic means. By the end

of the month the Viceroy was able to announce that order had been

generally restored, though in some places there was still considerable

effervescence.

Had the measures taken, however stern, been confined to the repression

of actual violence and to the punishment of the guilty, the reaction

produced amongst the great majority of Indians by the atrocities which

Indian mobs had committed, and the appalling spirit of lawlessness which

inspired them, would probably have been at least as great as the

impression which they at first made upon Mr. Gandhi himself, who

suddenly recognised and admitted that he had underrated the "forces of

evil" and advised his disciples to co-operate, as he himself had done at

Ahmedabad, with Government in the restoration of order. The _Satyagraha_

Committee, of which he was President, resolved to suspend temporarily

"civil disobedience" to the laws, and the fraternisation between

Mahomedans and Hindus cooled down, when important Mahomedan associations

began to protest against the desecration of mosques by the admission of

Hindu "idolaters" to deliver fiery orations to mixed congregations

within the sacred precincts. But before the reaction could take real

effect, it was arrested by rumours of terrible happenings in the course

of the repression in the Punjab which turned the tide of Indian feeling

into an opposite direction, and for those rumours there ultimately

proved to have been no slight foundation.

The methods adopted in the Punjab had been very different from those

adopted in the Bombay Presidency, where there had been scarcely less

menacing outbursts in some of the northern districts, besides serious

rioting in Bombay itself. In Ahmedabad, the second city of the

Presidency, mob law reigned for two days. There were arson and pillage,

and murder of Europeans and Government officers. Troops had to be

hurried up to quell the disturbances, and for a short time the military

authorities had to take charge. The repression was stern; 28 of the

rioters were killed and 123 wounded in Ahmedabad alone. There were many

arrests and prosecutions. But those stormy days left no bitterness

behind them. The use of military force was not resented, because it was

directed only against the crowds actually engaged in violent rioting.

Martial law was never proclaimed, nor did the military authorities

prolong the exercise of their punitive powers beyond the short period of

active disorder, nor strain it beyond the measures essential to the

suppression of disorder. They never interfered in administrative

matters. The Bombay Government kept their heads, and there was nowhere

any wholesale surrender of the civil authority into military hands. Mr.

Gandhi, who had been turned back by the Punjab Government when he tried

to enter the Punjab, was left free by the Bombay Government, and the

value of his assistance in restoring order in Allahabad, whilst he was

in his first fit of penitence, was acknowledged by the authorities.

Very different was the intensive enforcement of martial law in the

Punjab. Even when all allowance is made for the more dangerous situation

created by a more martial population and the proximity of an always

turbulent North-Western Frontier with the added menace at that time of

an Afghan invasion, nothing can justify what was done at Amritsar where

the deliberate bloodshed at Jallianwala has marked out April 13, 1919,

as a black day in the annals of British India. One cannot possibly

realise the frightfulness of it until one has actually looked down on

the Jallianwala Bagh--once a garden, but in modern times a waste space

frequently used for fairs and public meetings, about the size perhaps of

Trafalgar Square, and closed in almost entirely by walls above which

rise the backs of native houses facing into the congested streets of the

city. I entered by the same narrow lane by which General Dyer--having

heard that a large crowd had assembled there, many doubtless in

defiance, but many also in ignorance of his proclamation forbidding all

public gatherings--entered with about fifty rifles. I stood on the same

rising ground on which he stood when, without a word of warning, he

opened fire at about 100 yards' range upon a dense crowd, collected

mainly in the lower and more distant part of the enclosure around a

platform from which speeches were being delivered. The crowd was

estimated by him at 6000, by others at 10,000 and more, but practically

unarmed, and all quite defenceless. The panic-stricken multitude broke

at once, but for ten consecutive minutes he kept up a merciless

fusillade--in all 1650 rounds--on that seething mass of humanity, caught

like rats in a trap, vainly rushing for the few narrow exits or lying

flat on the ground to escape the rain of bullets, which he personally

directed to the points where the crowd was thickest. The "targets," to

use his own word, were good, and when at the end of those ten minutes,

having almost exhausted his ammunition, he marched his men off by the

way they came, he had killed, according to the official figures only

wrung out of Government months later, 379, and he left about 1200

wounded on the ground, for whom, again to use his own word, he did not

consider it his "job" to take the slightest thought.

In going to Jallianwala I had passed through the streets where, on April

10, when the disorders suddenly broke out in Amritsar, the worst

excesses were committed by the Indian rioters. But for General Dyer's

own statements before the Hunter Commission, one might have pleaded

that, left to his own unbalanced judgment by the precipitate abdication

of the civil authority, he simply "saw red," though the outbreak of the

10th had been quelled before he arrived in Amritsar, and the city had

been free from actual violence for the best part of three days. But, on

his own showing, he deliberately made up his mind whilst marching his

men to Jallianwala, and would not have flinched from still greater

slaughter if the narrowness of the approaches had not compelled him

regretfully to leave his machine-guns behind. His purpose, he declared,

was to "strike terror into the whole of the Punjab." He may have

achieved it for the time, though the evidence on this point is

conflicting, but what he achieved far more permanently and effectively

was to create in the Jallianwala Bagh, purchased since then as a

"Martyrs' Memorial" by the Indian National Congress, a place of

perpetual pilgrimage for racial hatred.

Then, two days after--not before--Jallianwala came the formal

proclamation of martial law in the Punjab, and though there were no more

Jallianwalas, what but racial hatred could result from a constant stream

of petty and vindictive measures enforced even after the danger of

rebellion, however real it may at first have seemed, had passed away?

Sir Michael O'Dwyer protested, it is true, against General Dyer's

monstrous "crawling order," and it was promptly disallowed. But what of

many other "orders" which were not disallowed? What of the promiscuous

floggings and whippings, the indiscriminate arrests and confiscations,

the so-called "fancy punishments" designed not so much to punish

individual "rebels" as to terrorise and humiliate? What of the whole

judicial or _quasi_-judicial administration of martial law? The

essential facts are on record now in the Report of the Hunter Committee

and in the evidence taken before it, though its findings were not

entirely unanimous and the majority report of the European members, five

in number including the president Lord Hunter, formerly

Solicitor-General for Scotland, was accompanied by a minority report

signed by the three Indian members, two of them now Ministers in the

Government of Bombay and of the United Provinces respectively, who on

several points attached graver importance to the circumstances which

they themselves had chiefly helped to elicit from witnesses under

examination. Upon the Report the Government of India and His Majesty's

Government expressed in turn their views in despatches which are also

public property. The responsibility of the Government of India was so

deeply involved, and in a lesser degree that of the Secretary of State,

that in neither case was judgment likely to err on the side of severity.

The Government of India certainly did not so err, and one must turn to

the despatch embodying the views of the British Government for a

considered judgment which at least set forth in weighty terms the

principles of British policy that had been violated in the Punjab,

however short some may consider it to have fallen of the full

requirements of justice in appraising the gravity of the departure from

those principles in specific cases.

The Punjab tragedy has had such far-reaching effects in shaking the

confidence of the Indian people in the justice and even in the humanity

of British rule that it is best to quote the language in which the

British Government recorded their judgment in their despatch to the

Government of India:

The principle which has consistently governed the policy of His

Majesty's Government in directing the methods to be employed, when

military action in support of civil authority is required, may be

broadly stated as using the minimum force necessary. His Majesty's

Government are determined that this principle shall remain the

primary factor of policy whenever circumstances unfortunately

necessitate the suppression of civil disorder by military force

within the British Empire.

It must regretfully but without possibility of doubt be concluded

that Brigadier-General Dyer's action at Jallianwala Bagh was in

complete violation of this principle.

The despatch proceeded to take into account the provocation offered and

the great difficulties of the position in which General Dyer was placed.

His omission to give warning before opening fire was nevertheless

declared to have been "inexcusable," his failure to see that some

attempt was made to give medical assistance to the dying and the wounded

an "omission from his obvious duty," and the "crawling order" issued by

him six days later "an offence against every canon of civilised

government."

Upon a military commander administering martial law in a hostile

country there lies a grave responsibility; when he is compelled to

exercise this responsibility over a population which owes

allegiance and looks for protection to the Government which he

himself is serving, this burden is immeasurably enhanced. It would

prejudice the public safety, with the preservation of which he is

charged, to fetter his free judgment or action either by the

prescription of rigid rules before the event or by over-censorious

criticism when the crisis is past. A situation which is essentially

military must be dealt with in the light of military considerations

which postulate breadth of view and due appreciation of all the

possible contingencies. There are certain standards of conduct

which no civilised Government can with impunity neglect and which

His Majesty's Government are determined to uphold.... That

Brigadier-General Dyer displayed honesty of purpose and unflinching

adherence to his conception of his duty cannot for a moment be

questioned. But his conception of his duty in the circumstances in

which he was placed was so fundamentally at variance with that

which His Majesty's Government have a right to expect from and a

duty to enforce upon officers who hold His Majesty's commission

that it is impossible to regard him as fitted to remain entrusted

with the responsibilities which his rank and position impose upon

him. You have reported to me that the Commander-in-Chief has

directed Brigadier-General Dyer to resign his appointment as

Brigade Commander, and has informed him that he would receive no

further employment in India and that you have concurred. I approve

the decision and the circumstances of the case have been referred

to the Army Council.

With regard to the administration of martial law the despatch considers

it

impossible to avoid the conclusion that the majority of Lord

Hunter's Committee have failed to express themselves in terms

which, unfortunately, the facts not only justify, but necessitate.

In paragraphs 16 to 25 of chapter xii. of their report the majority

have dealt with the "intensive" form generally which martial law

assumed and with certain specific instances of undue severity and

of improper punishments or orders. It is unnecessary to

recapitulate the instances which the Committee have enumerated in

detail in both their reports, nor would any useful purpose be

served by attempting to assess, with a view to penalties, the

culpability of individual officers who were responsible for these

orders, but whose conduct in other respects may have been free from

blame or actually commendable. But His Majesty's Government must

express strong disapproval of these orders and punishments and ask

me to leave to you the duty of seeing that this disapproval shall

be unmistakably marked by censure or other action which seems to

you necessary upon those who were responsible for them. The

instances cited by the Committee gave justifiable ground for the

assertion that the administration of martial law in the Punjab was

marred by a spirit which prompted--not generally, but unfortunately

not uncommonly--the enforcement of punishments and orders

calculated, if not intended to humiliate Indians as a race, to

cause unwarranted inconvenience amounting on occasions to

injustice, and to flout the standards of propriety and humanity,

which the inhabitants not only of India in particular but of the

civilised world in general have a right to demand of those set in

authority over them. It is a matter for regret that,

notwithstanding the conduct of the majority, there should have been

some officers in the Punjab who appear to have overlooked the fact

that they were administering martial law, not in order to subdue

the population of a hostile country temporarily occupied as an act

of war, but in order to deal promptly with those who had disturbed

the peace of a population owing allegiance to the King Emperor, and

in the main profoundly loyal to that allegiance.

This clear enunciation of bed-rock principles and emphatic condemnation

of many of the methods of repression used in the Punjab would have done

more to reassure the public mind in India had the actual punishment

inflicted on General Dyer and a few others been more commensurate with

the gravity of the censure passed on their actions, and in any case it

came far too late. It came too late to stem the rising tide of Indian

bitterness, intensified by many gross exaggerations and deliberate

inventions, which lost all sense of proportion when the Extremists

demanded Sir Michael O'Dwyer's impeachment, though many responsible

Indians had expressed their unabated confidence in him before he left

the Punjab on the expiry of his term of office, just after the troubles,

in terms more unstinted even than those in which the Government of India

and the British Government conveyed their appreciation of his long and

distinguished services--services which assuredly no errors of judgment

committed under great stress could be allowed to overshadow. It came

too late also to correct the effects of the panic that had taken

possession of the European mind when it was still largely in ignorance

of the actual facts. For most Europeans had at once rushed to the

conclusion that the outbreak in the Punjab, in which no single Sepoy

ever took part, was or threatened to be a reproduction of the Mutiny. In

the first days, as a measure of precaution, European women and children

had been hurriedly collected into places of refuge lest the horrible

excesses perpetrated by the Indian mob at Amritsar might prove the

prelude to a repetition of Cawnpore. The hardships and anxiety they

underwent and the murderous outrages actually committed on not a few

Europeans moved most of their fellow countrymen and countrywomen to

unmeasured resentment, and not until they gained at last a fuller

knowledge of all the facts so long allowed to remain obscure did a

gradual reaction set in against the belief which was genuinely

entertained by most Europeans, non-official and official in India, and

which spread from them to England, that General Dyer's action and the

rigours of martial law alone "saved India."

What drove the iron into the soul of India more than the things actually

done in the Punjab, for which many Indians admit the provocation, was

the reluctance of her rulers to look them in the face, and the tardiness

and half-heartedness of the atonement made for them. Not till nearly

half a year after the troubles had occurred did the Government of India

announce the appointment of the Hunter Committee of Inquiry, and this

announcement was coupled with the introduction of a Bill of Indemnity

for all officers of Government engaged in their repression, which wore,

in the eyes of Indians, however unreasonably, the appearance of an

attempt to shelter them against the possible findings of the Committee.

Again nearly half a year passed before the report of the Committee was

made public, and the bloom had already been taken off it for most

Indians by the report of a Commission instituted on its own account by

the Indian National Congress which, partisan and lurid as it was, never

received full refutation, as the witnesses upon whose evidence it was

based were, for technical reasons, not heard by the Hunter Committee.

The complete surrender of civil authority into military hands first at

Amritsar, and then, under orders from Simla, at Lahore and elsewhere,

was, as His Majesty's Government afterwards acknowledged, a disastrous

departure from the best traditions of the Indian Civil Service. But,

whatever the mistakes committed by the civil authority in the Punjab or

by those charged with the administration of martial law in that

province, there is above the Punjab the Government of India, and its

plea of prolonged ignorance as to the details of the occurrences in the

Punjab can hardly hold water. The preoccupations of the Afghan war which

followed closely on the Punjab troubles were no doubt absorbing, but had

the Viceroy or the Home member or the Commander-in-Chief or one of his

responsible advisers proceeded in person, the moment the disorders were

over, to Lahore or Amritsar, barely more than a night's journey from

Delhi or Simla, is it conceivable that a halt would not have been

forthwith called to proceedings which these high officers of state were

constrained later on unanimously to deplore and reprobate? And if the

Government of India were too slow to move, was there not a Secretary of

State who knew, from statements made to him personally by Sir Michael

O'Dwyer on his return to England, at least enough to insist upon

immediate inquiry on the spot? Mr. Montagu has seldom, it is believed,

hesitated to require in the most peremptory terms full information on

far more trivial matters. Had prompt action been taken in India, there

would never have been any need for the Hunter Committee. As it was,

Indian feeling had run tremendously high before its findings were made

public. So when the Government of India and the Secretary of State

published their belated judgment, the people of India weighed such a

tardy measure of justice against the dissent of an important minority in

the House of Commons and of the majority of the Lords, the stifling of

discussion in the Indian Legislature, which was still more directly

interested in the matter, and above all the unprecedented public

subscriptions in England and in India for the glorification of General

Dyer, whilst the Punjab Government was still haggling over doles to the

widows and orphans of Jallianwala--and, having weighed it, found it

lamentably wanting, until at last the Duke of Connaught's moving speech

at Delhi for the first time began to redress the balance.

The story of Jallianwala and all that followed in the Punjab scattered

to the winds Mr. Gandhi's threadbare penitence for the horrible violence

of Indian mobs, and he poured out henceforth all the vials of his wrath

on the violence of the repression, far more unpardonable, he declared,

because they were not the outcome of ignorant fanaticism, but of a

definite policy adopted by European officers high in rank and

responsibility. There was no longer any doubt in his mind that a

Government that tolerated or condoned or palliated such things was

"Satanic," and that the whole civilisation for which such a Government

stood was equally Satanic. For Indians to co-operate with it until it

had shown "a complete change of heart" was a deadly sin. To accept any

scheme of constitutional reforms as reparation for the wrongs of the

Punjab with which the wrongs of Turkey were linked up with an increased

fervour of righteous indignation when the terms of the treaty of Sèvres

became known, was treachery to the soul of India. Thence it was but a

step to the organisation of a definite "Non-co-operation" movement to

demonstrate the finality of the breach. Mr. Gandhi appealed in the first

place to the educated classes to set the example to the people. He

called upon those on whom the State had conferred honours and titles to

renounce them, upon barristers and pleaders to cease to practise in the

law-courts, and upon parents to withdraw their children from the

schools and colleges tainted with State control and State doles. If

parents would not hearken to him, schoolboys and students were exhorted

to shake themselves free of their own accord. To the people he opened up

simpler ways of "Non-co-operation" by abstaining from tea and sugar and

all articles of consumption and of clothing contaminated by alien hands

or alien industry. If all would join in a common effort he promised that

India would speedily attain _Swaraj_--the term mentioned was generally a

year--and, quit of the railways and telegraphs and all other instruments

and symbols of Western economic bondage, return to the felicity and

greatness of Vedic times. All this, however, was to be done by "soul

force" alone and without violence.

In the course of the only long conversation I had with Mr. Gandhi I

tried to obtain from him some picture of what India would be like under

_Swaraj_ as he understood it. In a voice as gentle as his whole manner

is persuasive, he explained, more in pity than in anger, that India had

at last recovered her own soul through the fiery ordeal which Hindus and

Mahomedans had undergone in the Punjab, and the perfect act of faith

which the _Khilafat_ meant for all Mahomedans, and that, purged of the

degrading influences of the West, she would find again that peace which

was hers before alien domination divided and exploited her people. As to

the form of government and administration which would then obtain in

India, he would not go beyond a vague assurance that it would be based

on the free will of the people expressed by manhood suffrage for which

Indians were already ripe, if called upon to exercise it upon truly

Indian lines. When I objected that caste, which was the bed-rock of

Hindu social and religious life, was surely a tremendous obstacle to any

real democracy, he admitted that the system would have to be restored to

its pristine purity and redeemed from some of the abuses that had crept

into it. But he upheld the four original castes as laid down in the

Vedas, and even their hereditary character, though in practice some born

in a lower caste might well rise by their own merits and secure the

deference and respect of the highest castes, "such as, for instance, if

I may in all modesty quote my own unworthy case, the highest Brahmans

spontaneously accord to me to-day, though by birth I am only of a lowly

caste." I tried to get on to more solid ground by pointing out that,

whatever views one might hold as to his ultimate goal, the methods he

was employing in trying to break up the existing schools and colleges

and law-courts and to paralyse the machinery of administration was

destructive rather than constructive, and that, confident as he might

feel of substituting better things ultimately for those that he had

destroyed, construction must always be a much slower process than

destruction; and in the meantime infinite and perhaps irreparable harm

would be done. "No," he rejoined--and I think I can convey his words

pretty accurately, but not his curious smile as of boundless compassion

for the incurable scepticism of one in outer darkness--"no, I destroy

nothing that I cannot at once replace. Let your law-courts with their

cumbersome and ruinous procedure disappear, and India will set up her

old _Panchayats_, in which justice will be dispensed in accordance with

her own conscience. For your schools and colleges, upon which lakhs of

rupees have been wasted in bricks and mortar for the erection of

ponderous buildings that weigh as heavily upon our boys as the

educational processes by which you reduce their souls to slavery, we

will give them simpler structures, open to God's air and light, and the

learning of our forefathers that will make them free men once more." Not

that he would exclude all Western literature--Ruskin, for instance, he

would always welcome with both hands--nor Western science so long as it

was applied to spiritual and not to materialistic purposes, nor even

English teachers, if they would become Indianised and were reborn of the

spirit of India. Indeed, what he had looked for, and looked in vain

for, in the rulers of India was "a change of hearts" by which they too

might be reborn of the spirit of India. He hated no one, for that would

be a negation of the great principle of _Ahimsa_, on which he expatiated

with immense earnestness.

As I watched the slight ascetic frame and mobile features of the Hindu

dreamer in his plain garment of white home-spun, and, beside him, one of

his chief Mahomedan allies, Shaukat Ali, with his great burly figure and

heavy jowl and somewhat truculent manner and his opulent robes

embroidered with the Turkish crescent, I wondered how far Mr. Gandhi had

succeeded in converting his Mahomedan friend to the principle of

_Ahimsa_. Perhaps Mr. Gandhi guessed what was passing in my mind when I

asked him how the fundamental antagonism between the Hindu and the

Mahomedan outlook upon life was to be permanently overcome even if the

common cause held Hindus and Mahomedans together in the struggle for

_Swaraj_. He pointed at once to his "brother" Shaukat as a living proof

of the "change of hearts" that had already taken place in the two

communities. "Has any cloud ever arisen between my brother Shaukat and

myself during the months that we have now lived and worked together? Yet

he is a staunch Mahomedan and I a devout Hindu. He is a meat-eater and I

a vegetarian. He believes in the sword, I condemn all violence. But what

do such differences matter between two men in both of whom the heart of

India beats in unison?"

I turned thereupon to Mr. Shaukat Ali and asked him whether he would

explain to me the application to India under _Swaraj_ of the Mahomedan

doctrine that the world is divided into two parts, one the "world of

Islam" under Mahomedan rule, and the other "the world of war," in which

infidels may rule for a time but will sooner or later be reduced to

subjection by the sword of Islam. To which of these worlds would

Mahomedans reckon India to belong when she obtained _Swaraj_? Mr.

Shaukat Ali evaded the question by assuring me with much unction that

he could not conceive the possibility of the Hindus doing any wrong to

Islam, but, if the unthinkable happened, Mahomedans, he quickly added,

would know how to redress their wrongs, for they could never renounce

their belief in the sword, and it was indeed because Turkey is the sword

of Islam that they could not see her perish or the Khalifate depart from

her.

I wondered as I withdrew how long the fiery Mahomedan would keep his

sword sheathed, did he not feel that his own personality and that of his

brother Mahomed Ali would count for very little without the reflected

halo with which they were at least temporarily invested by the

saintliness of Mr. Gandhi's own simple and austere life of

self-renunciation, so different in every way from their own. For it is

to his personality rather than to his teachings that Mr. Gandhi owes his

immense influence with the people. It is a very different influence from

that of Mr. Tilak, to whom he is sometimes, but quite wrongly, compared.

Mr. Tilak belonged by birth to a powerful Deccani Brahman caste with

hereditary traditions of rulership. He was a man of considerable

Sanscrit learning whose researches into the ancient lore of Hinduism

commanded respectful attention amongst European as well as Indian

scholars. Whatever one may think of his politics and of his political

methods, he was an astute politician skilled in all the ways of

political opportunism. Mr. Gandhi is none of these things. He is not a

Brahman, but of the humbler _Bania_ caste; he does not come from the

Deccan, but from Gujarat, a much less distinguished part of the Bombay

Presidency. He does not claim to be anything but a man of the people. He

looks small and fragile and his features are homely. He lives in the

simplest native way, eating simple native food which he is said to

prepare with his own hands, and dresses in the simplest native clothes

from his own spinning-wheel. His private life is unimpeachable--the only

point indeed in which Mr. Tilak resembled him. Though he lays no claim

to Sanscrit erudition, his speeches are replete with references to Hindu

mythology and scripture, but they usually reflect the gentler, and not

the more terrific, aspects of Hinduism. He blurts out the truth as he

conceives it with as little regard for the feelings or prejudices of his

supporters as for those of his opponents. He will tell the most orthodox

Brahman audience at Poona that if they want to be the leaders of the

nation they must give up their worldly notions of caste ascendancy and

their harsh enforcement of "untouchability"; or he will lecture a

youthful Bengalee audience, intensely jealous of their own language,

upon their shameful ignorance of Hindi, which he believes to be the

future language of India and of _Swaraj_. No one could suspect him of

having an axe of his own to grind. He is beyond argument, because his

conscience tells him he is right and his conscience must be right, and

the people believe that he is right, and that his conscience must be

right because he is a _Mahatma_, and as such outside and above caste.

His influence over the Indian Mahomedan cannot be so deep-rooted, and

the ancient antagonism between them and the Hindus still endures amongst

the masses on both sides; but it is of some significance that his warm

espousal of the grievances which large and perhaps growing numbers of

them have been induced to read into the Turkish peace terms, has led

some of his most enthusiastic Mahomedan supporters to bestow upon him

the designation of _Wali_ or Vicegerent which is sometimes used to

connote religious leadership.

No leader has ever dominated any meeting of the old Indian National

Congress as absolutely as Mr. Gandhi dominated last Christmas at Nagpur

the 20,000 delegates from all parts of India who persisted in calling

themselves the Indian National Congress, though between them and the

original Congress founders few links have survived, and the chief

business of the session was to repudiate the old Congress profession of

loyalty to the British connection as the fundamental article of its

creed, and to eliminate the reference hitherto retained, with the

consent even of the Extremists, to India's participation on equal terms

with the other members of the Empire in all its rights and

responsibilities. The resolution moved and carried at Nagpur stated

bluntly that "the object of the Indian National Congress is the

attainment of _Swaraj_ by the people of India by all legitimate and

peaceful means." Many of the members would have left out the last words

which were intended to ease the scruples of the more weak-kneed

brethren. But Mr. Jinna, a Mahomedan Extremist from Bombay, whose legal

mind in spite of all his bitterness does not blink the cold light of

reason, warned his audience that India could not achieve complete

independence by violent means without wading through rivers of blood.

Mr. Gandhi himself intimated that India did not "want to end the British

connection at all costs unconditionally," but he declared it to be

"derogatory to national dignity to think of the permanence of the

British connection at any cost, and it was impossible to accept its

continuance in the presence of the grievous wrongs done by the British

Government and its refusal to acknowledge or redress them." He explained

that the resolution of which he was the mover could be accepted equally

by "those who believe that by retaining the British connection we can

purify ourselves and purify the British people, and those who have no

such belief." He concluded on a more minatory note: "The British people

will have to beware that if they do not want to do justice, it will be

the bounden duty of every Indian to destroy the Empire"--which Mr.

Mahomed Ali, however, with less diplomacy, declared to be already dead

and buried.

That the "Non-co-operation" programme was reaffirmed at Nagpur except in

regard to the propaganda amongst schoolboys as differentiated from

students, and that threats were uttered of extending passive resistance

to the non-payment of taxes and more especially of the land tax, were

not matters to cause much surprise to those who had measured the sharply

inclined plane down which "Non-co-operation" was moving. But one hardly

sees how Mr. Gandhi can reconcile the racial hatred which was the

key-note of all the proceedings with his favourite doctrine of _Ahimsa_.

He has, however, himself, on one occasion, openly referred to a time

when legions of Indians may be ready to leap to the sword for _Swaraj_,

and though his appeal is to an inner moral force which he declares to be

unconquerable, he does not always disguise from himself or from his

followers the bloodshed which the exercise of that moral force may

involve. In an article in support of the "Non-co-operation" movement in

his organ _Young India_ the following pregnant passage occurs:

For me, I say with Cardinal Newman: "I do not ask to see the

distant scene; one step enough for me." The movement is essentially

religious. The business of every God-fearing man is to dissociate

himself from evil in total disregard of consequences. He must have

faith in a good deed producing only a good result; that, in my

opinion, is the Ghita doctrine of work without attachment. God does

not permit man to peep into the future. He follows truth, although

the following of it may endanger life. He knows that it is better

to die in the way of God than to live in the way of Satan.

Therefore, whoever is satisfied that this Government represents the

activity of Satan has no choice left to him but to dissociate

himself from it.

Are there any limits to the disastrous lengths to which a people may not

be carried away by one who combines to such ends and in such fashion

religious and political leadership?

India, Old and New · 第 9 / 16 章